


Shock stick

by Zenniet



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dom/sub, E-stim, Electrocution, Light BDSM, M/M, Overstimulation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Wheeljack has a patrol to go on, but Ratchet's got other plans.





	Shock stick

It was just a couple patrol trips around Jasper, just to make sure that nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Wheeljack could more than handle it on any other day, but this one? This day, Ratchet had some other plans for him. Sure it might have been tied to how much he mouthed off at him the day before, or just the insubordination from all the days prior, but Ratchet had decided that today he was going to have some fun with Wheeljack. 

Really, he was pleasantly surprised that his partner even had these things. Chargers. Ones in the shape of bands and ones that resembled something like a dodecahedron. Bands for when he was in bot mode, and the others for when he was in alt mode. They would send feedback through his systems, echoing and bouncing back whatever charge he had in his systems. It wasn’t bad at first, he wasn’t exactly revved up when he had to go out on patrol, but now, as he was about halfway through his task, it was getting to be unbearable. His engine was running hot and he was seriously considering bolting out to the rocks near the city and transforming so he could try to get himself off. 

He had been waiting to see if the chargers would bring him to overload on their own, but he figured out that the loop was definitely a closed circle, with no end in sight. He was so lost in his own mind that he almost swerved off of the road when a comm came through to him. He answered it, though reluctantly.

“Hey, Jackie!” Bulkhead. Of course. “The kids wanted to know if you could pick up lunch for them on the way back. Only if you don’t mind, though.”

“Uh, sorry, Bulkhead. I’m not really passing through the city, and I think I hit a rock or something and my wheel’s feeling a bit misaligned. I’m heading back now to I could check in with Ratchet.” Wheeljack fumbled to come up with a lie that might be able to convince his friend to drop the topic. It must have worked because Bulkhead confirmed and ended the call, much to Wheeljack’s relief. He finished up the rest of his patrol by going way over the speed limit, then rushed back to base. 

He transformed as soon as he got inside, keeping the charger in his cab just so that the rest of the team couldn’t see what was really going on. He gave a quick report to Optimus, then went off to the medibay to get his wheel checked. Luckily, nobody suspected anything when Ratchet ushered Wheeljack to the private operation room. The inside of the room was more or less empy. A couple of chairs, some tables, a metal operating bed. It looked like it had never been used, and the point was made clearer when Ratchet kicked out a black chest from underneath the operating table. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t for patients?” His voice wavered and his legs shook as he entered, Ratchet closing the door behind him. The medic turned and pressed a servo onto Wheeljack’s shoulder, pushing him down to his knees, then took a seat in front of him, one pede on the black chest. As soon as he had the opportunity, Wheeljack took the charger from his cab and handed it back to Ratchet, who turned it off and deposited it into the chest. When Ratchet opened the chest to put the charger back, Wheeljack caught a glimpse of what was inside. Cuffs, toys, things he’d never seen before, even in videos.

Wordlessly, Ratchet pulled out a pair of cuffs, then approached his partner. He cuffed his servos behind his back and stepped back to his seat, rifling through the chest again. He came back with a short, white staff, with two prongs on one end. He pulled it and it stretched to three times it’s length.

“Do you know what this is, Wheeljack?”

“Can’t- I can’t say that I do,” Wheeljack tilted his helm as his optics followed the edge while Ratchet swirled it in front of him. He let the pronged end drift down to above his chassis, then, with a click, it turned on. Blue-white charge coursed through the prongs and ghosted along his chest, tingling and surging along his plating. 

“Ah, an electro rod,” Wheeljack hummed, “I didn’t take you for that kind of mech, Doc,” His words were rewarded with a shock to his chest, just enough to sting.

“Have you learned nothing about respect?” Ratchet sighed. Wheeljack caught on to what was going on instantly. Ratchet was usually alright with the little petnames he had for him, but today it looked like they were going to be playing a little game. Wheeljack lowered his helm and kept his optics on the ground.

“Do you want an overload?” Ratchet turned off the electricity and used the end of the rod to lift Wheeljack's helm until he was making eye contact.

“Y-yes, sir,” His intake was dry, his interface panel was hot and his equipment ached behind it. Ratchet lowered the rod and tapped it against Wheeljack’s paneling. It shifted back and he released his spike and valve, his cooling fans turning on as he felt lubricant drip to the floor. His processor was spinning with heat and need, so much so that he didn’t realize that Ratchet was going through the chest again until the medic was clamping a large charger band around his throat cabling. As soon as he felt it, Wheeljack tried to move his servos to it only to remember that they were secured behind his frame. 

“Now, come on, Doc,” He knew full well that he couldn’t overload with the charger on. All it would do would cycle the same charge through him over and over again, increasing with each loop. 

“What if I just leave you here? Go about my day. You’ll probably learn to appreciate this, right?” Ratchet was already standing up, ready to leave and act on that plan. 

“Please, sir, no… I need an overload, please,” He wanted to say something about how Ratchet had been revving him up all day, but he figured that that kind of talk wouldn’t be appreciated right now. Ratchet hummed and stepped towards the door.

“My comm link is open, I’m locking this door. I’ll be back in a while.” His EM field, though skillfully restrained, was letting out waves of something that Wheeljack just couldn’t place, nor could he stand up against it. He dropped his helm and sighed, letting Ratchet leave him in the room alone.

He couldn’t exactly tell how long Ratchet was gone for, power had long since been routed away from his internal timing systems and towards his cooling fans and keeping himself online at all. His fans were blasting, his view was crowded by overheating and overcharge warnings, his vents were shaky and heavy as he tried to regulate himself. He was on the edge of overload and he was sure if he could just get his servos on his spike he’d be able to overload. 

To Wheeljack, it was an eternity, but for Ratchet, it was more like thirty minutes. He came back to a pink puddle spreading around Wheeljack’s knees and the room being as warm as the outdoors just from the mech inside. Ratchet didn’t greet him, he just turned the thermostat for the room colder and sat back down at his seat. He pulled his chair closer to Wheeljack, but didn’t touch him.

“Please, sir, please, I need it,” He wheezed. Ratchet raised the electro rod and turned it on, holding it above his chassis again. His spark spun and his engines roared, all out of his control as the electro rod and the chargers interfered with his internal systems. Suddenly, the rod was lowered and jammed into the wiring that joined his thigh to his hip. He tensed and shook, his spike twitched and transfluid leaked from it, but he didn’t overload. 

Ratchet jammed the prongs into Wheeljack's side next, getting a vocal response as he moaned and writhed against it, trying to get away.

“You like this? You get off on this, Wheeljack? Maybe it would have been better if I left you longer, or not touched you at all, huh?” Ratchet turned off the prod and folded it back up. He nudged his pede against the underside of his spike, rough and forceful, but not enough to get him to overload. 

“Sir!” Wheeljack grit his dentae and gasped when he was rewarded with another shock to his chassis. Ratchet pressed the button at the handle once, and the force of the charge doubled. Enough to hurt, but it didn’t seem like it was going to cause any real damage. He must know what he’s doing, right?

“Hurts, sir,” Wheeljack gasped, back arching and embarrassed by how good he felt.

“You want out?” Ratchet pulled the electro rod away, giving his partner some time to answer. All he responded with was a shake of his helm. 

The rod returned, starting at his chassis and slowly moving down, stinging and shocking along the way until Ratchet reached his spike. He yanked it away then jammed it into Wheeljack’s dripping valve, throwing him into a hard overload. His frame shuddered, plating rattling on him as his legs closed around the rod and his optics glowed bright. His engine revved, then sputtered. His processor did very much the same before everything went black.

When he came to, he was laying back on the operating table, the cuffs removed and his plating clean. He sat up, his entire front stinging and burning. 

“You alright?” The room was clean also, whatever mess he’d made on the floor had been cleaned up as well. Ratchet was seated next to the table. “Can you walk? I can tell the rest of the team you need a little time off, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, thanks, Doc.” Wheeljack’s servo rubbed over his plating and throat cabling to find that the charger was no longer there, thankfully.

“Okay, up you get. Let’s get you back to your room to recover.”

“Are you going to be there to help me with me ‘recovery’?” Wheeljack asked slyly as Ratchet stood next to the table.

“Well, maybe I can excuse myself from the rest of the team for a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> someone asked for kinky ratchet/wheeljack on my tumblr and I didnt really know how to make something kinkier than the stuff i usually write so ehhh?


End file.
